


be good

by kvetching



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Jealousy, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25093699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kvetching/pseuds/kvetching
Summary: Lilith wanted to be good.
Relationships: Shotgun Mary/Sister Shannon, Sister Lilith/Shotgun Mary
Comments: 20
Kudos: 142





	be good

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimers: characters not mine, please don't sue me, please don't post elsewhere, i love you, etc! a very short & unbetaed Lilith-centric fic because she's cool! if you like it, or if you don't, please say hi in the comments!

Lilith wanted to be good.

She kept her mouth shut when Shannon got the Halo. Beatrice was smarter, Mary was twice the fighter, and Lilith was both of those things and a legacy besides; humiliating, but the anger wouldn't last forever. She was relieved, in a way. The surety of being rejected by people was better than the possibility of being rejected by the Halo.

Then Shannon got Mary, so maybe rejection was excruciating no matter what.

The Cat's Cradle wasn't enormous, and it wasn't like they all spent much time apart. Lilith saw the way the two of them smiled when they wrestled each other down to the mats. She saw the light under Shannon's door when Mary's room was empty. It was amazing all the things you could pick up on when you looked, and she'd been looking for a long time.

She wanted to be good, but some things ate at her, made her tired of trying.

•

"You're out of it today," Mary said. The two of them were outside, shooting. It was overcast, but not raining; they both had their training hoods up against the slight chill.

Lilith reloaded her gun with clinical efficiency. "I don't know what you mean," she said, and fired three times. Off-center on the first two, alright, but a bullseye on the third.

"Don't try that act with me," said Mary. "You're distracted. Not cool when you've got a gun in your hand, so clear your head or get off the range."

Mary had always been a good teacher. Strict, and firm, but not cruel; she pushed just a bit harder than Lilith was comfortable being pushed, and she knew when to take the backseat. She made a great lieutenant to Shannon in that regard. Lilith fired again. Her shots were getting worse, not better. Proving Mary's point.

"I don't want to talk about it," Lilith said finally, lowering the gun.

"Pretty sure I didn't ask you to talk about it." Mary looked amused, but there was nothing smug in it, just peaceful humor, and for a second Lilith almost hated her for being so happy. This was why she would never be okay. She begrudged people the things that they deserved, that they had earned. So what, it was great, that Mary was in the sort of love that made everything else in life seem brighter and more tolerable, that was so wonderful for her. She was sleeping with the Halo-Bearer, and the Halo-Bearer was not Lilith, and that did not make Lilith want to shoot anything.

Lilith holstered the gun. "Want to spar?"

"On the range?" Mary made a big show of looking around.

"Why not," Lilith said, and stepped forward and threw a hook at Mary's jaw, which was deflected easily. They both backpedaled, squaring up; Mary feinted left, and Lilith followed her almost in the same instant. They knew each other too well. It was unlike fighting anyone else; Lilith learned something new every time she lost to Beatrice, and every time she beat Shannon, something to add to her game. With Mary it was like a familiar dance. Like all the steps had been choreographed for millennia, and the two of them were just falling into place.

This was the part in the dance where Mary let her get a few hits in. Lilith stepped back and kicked out instead, and Mary used the opportunity of leverage to get them both on the ground. It robbed Lilith of the height advantage, but she still had the weight, and in moments she was straddling Mary, pinning her by the wrists. Mary wrenched one hand free of Lilith's grip and slammed her fist into Lilith's arm so that it buckled, and then suddenly their positions were reversed, and Mary had her dagger at Lilith's jugular.

She was grinning. "What," she teased, "you have a long night or something? You're off your game, Lil."

Lilith pressed the flat of her own blade into Mary's lower abdomen, just enough to make an impression. Mary looked down and her smile grew. "Not so much," Lilith said.

"Damn." Mary pushed herself off and stood up, dusting at her clothes. "Forgot you keep that blade in your sleeve, I should've pinned both your arms. Maybe I'm slipping."

"Maybe you're the one who had a long night," Lilith countered.

Mary expression flickered strangely, so quick it was barely there, and then smoothed over. "We'll call that a tie. See you at dinner."

Lilith watched her disappear inside, and then turned around and hurled the four knives hidden in her sleeves and boots at the targets, one by one.

Yeah, four perfect shots, dead center. The thing with Mary—it was becoming a problem.

•

That week Lilith was tasked with chores in the armory, cleaning and oiling weapons. Beatrice was assigned there too, and had an individual checklist for each locker, mapping which tools they'd already finished and which things went back where. They worked well together, the two of them, with precision and speed. They didn't waste any time speaking.

"So," Beatrice said, "did you—did you want to talk about it?"

Or not. If Lilith was being so obvious that Beatrice wanted to have a heart-to-heart, all hope was lost.

"What is there to talk about?"

Beatrice gave an almost imperceptible shrug with one shoulder. She was so controlled, so even-handed; it was yet another thing Lilith envied. "You've been a little different, lately," said Beatrice. "Mary mentioned something—I know it was hard for you, Shannon getting the Halo."

Some hard feeling twisted in Lilith's stomach. Right, let Mary think it was about the Halo. That was less shameful. Pure ambitious envy wasn't as bad a sin as envy plus—well, plus feeling the way she did. She looked away from Beatrice and down at the leather strop in her hand, at the pile of knives on the table. "I've been working really hard," she said finally.

"I know." Beatrice sat down next to her. "Sometimes we try our best and our best isn't good enough."

Lilith drew the flat of the blade in one fluid motion along the strop. She'd always been comforted by that sound. "That's meant to make me feel better?"

Beatrice was quiet for a moment, and then, hesitantly, reached out and placed a gentle hand on the crook of Lilith's elbow. "Not really," she said. "I'm just saying I understand. I've been there too."

Lilith had heard enough about how Beatrice found herself in the OCS to know that was probably truer than she realized.

•

She was watching Shannon spar with some of the other girls. It was Camila at the moment; she was promising, but not yet light enough on her feet. She'd do well to train with Beatrice; Lilith would mention it to Shannon.

She turned and scanned the room; Beatrice was stretching, and most of the other girls were engaged. Only Mary stood alone, watching from the sidelines just like Lilith.

"How about a rematch?" Lilith called.

"You want to fight me a lot lately," Mary said, coming over to her. "Should I be worried?"

Lilith thought about pinning Mary down, putting her mouth on Mary's throat. Putting a knife there instead was just—a coping mechanism.

Something was surely broken in her.

They went to the mats. Mary stepped in first; her first cut glanced off Lilith's shoulder as she turned into it, going low. Mary had her matched, though. They exchanged a few blows, getting a feel for each other. Lilith landed one hook on Mary's cheekbone, just under her eye, and Mary wheeled back several steps.

"No holds barred, huh," Mary said. That was it: Mary fought like a boxer, dogged and determined, taking as many blows as she dealt but weathering them better than anyone else. She was the only one in the Order who fought like that. Lilith could only beat her when she was just as tenacious.

When Mary stepped in again, Lilith was ready; she caught the incoming jab and twisted, moving the two of them around so that Mary's back was pulled flush against Lilith's chest, with her arm behind her. They grappled in that position for a moment, but Mary was strong, and Lilith couldn't hold her. She wrenched out of her grip and dropped an elbow into Lilith's stomach, bobbing away to avoid Lilith's counterpunch.

In her periphery Lilith could see that a few of the girls had gathered to watch. Mary put her head down and charged, trying to throw them both off balance. Lilith put a knee up but misjudged her footing, and they went to the ground. Someone wolf-whistled; it may have been Shannon.

They wrestled for a bit on the floor, trying to get the upper hand. The moves were increasingly less textbook as they lost energy. Someone was cheering Mary's name, and Lilith's attention slipped, just for a second, and all of a sudden Mary had her on her stomach. They'd been here before. Lilith knew what Mary was expecting: Lilith would use her weight, try to turn them over, and Mary would just pin her on her back instead. But Lilith was tired, so she did what she never did, and went limp. Game over.

Except the second she felt the pressure of Mary's knee lift slightly off her back, she pushed off the ground and viper-quick had Mary flat on the ground, with one hand pinning her wrists above her head, and the other hand at her throat.

Mary was breathing hard, her eyes glittering. They'd fought harder than this before, the two of them, bloodying each other and going for broke, but it was rare. "Fuck you, that's dirty pool," she said.

Lilith stood up, and reached out a hand, which Mary took. "Language. Did you expect me to go easy on you?"

A corner of Mary's mouth quirked into a smile. Lilith felt a bit sick in the chest. "Guess I should be thankful you didn't break out the dagger," Mary said.

"You're too used to fighting with me," Shannon said, drawing closer to them. "I think we're both too used to fighting with each other, actually. We should be sparring like this more often."

Shannon turned her gaze on Lilith, and tilted her chin up slightly; Lilith recognized the challenge for what it was. In another moment she'd be recovered enough to take Shannon down, but what did that prove? Everyone was watching, Mary was watching. Lilith was dealing in enough capital vices without adding wrath to the list.

"I'm finished for the day," Lilith said. "Perhaps Sister Beatrice can help you."

•

They were all in the armory, getting ready to go on assignment; Camila had Beatrice's checklist and was distributing proper weaponry. Lilith watched Shannon smile while she adjusted the straps on Mary's holsters.

Lilith swallowed against whatever feeling was burning in her. This was the real world, and she couldn't afford the distraction. She stepped towards Beatrice.

"Run me through it again," she said.

Beatrice was so reliable, always gave the facts as cold and hard as they were. It was a straightforward mission, no more than two or three wraiths. They were well prepared. It was something to focus on.

•

Of course, nothing could ever actually be straightforward, could it. One of the wraiths swiped at Shannon, Lilith was closest, and she did what was expected of her; she jumped at it, got one good strike in, Shannon was safe, and Lilith was vaulted back twenty feet into a far wall, where she crumpled. She felt warm and wet along her collarbone. The demon must have swiped at her, caught her a little in the chest. Not fatal. Maybe a broken bone or two from the wall, but she'd live. She bit her tongue and shut her eyes and tried to struggle to her feet, but staggered and yelped; in a moment, she felt strong hands at her waist and under her arm.

"He got you pretty good," Mary said. Lilith noted she didn't sound terribly concerned. She tried not to care. "Come on. They've got this locked down, we're leaving."

They were still in Andalusia, just outside Seville. It wouldn't take an age to get back to the Cradle. Lilith tried to stay awake on the way home, but couldn't manage it: the next thing she knew, she was in her bed, and Mary was sitting backwards on the chair by the desk, checking her phone.

"Hey," Mary said, looking up. "I had one of the girls dress the cut while you were passed out. Shannon and Beatrice are on their way back now."

"And you're—waiting here?"

"Yeah, well, I was worried about you." Mary gave her a sharp, close-mouthed smile, and Lilith leaned back on the pillow so Mary couldn't see her blushing. "Look, with everything, what you did back there—you did good."

Lilith bit the inside of her cheek, hard, but she couldn't help herself. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not, asshole." Mary swung her legs off the chair and came to sit on the bed. It was so unfair, it set Lilith on fire, that things had to be so wrong for her to get this close. "Look. This isn't a feelings talk, I'm not expecting you to bare your fucking soul to me or whatever. I'm just saying, I know it's been hard for you, since Shannon got the Halo. You're pissed, fine, but I know you're trying to be good. I see you. Okay?"

"You see me," Lilith repeated. She tasted bile, like a physical representation of whatever horribleness lurked within her, trying to claw its way out. "Please get out of my room."

"Yeah, yeah," said Mary, getting up and fidgeting with her belt. "I love you too. I'll send someone in to check on you later."

_ I love you too. _ It was pathetic, the way those words made everything seem bearable for a second.

Maybe she'd keep trying to be good, for now.


End file.
